Gay Erotic Stories

"Here, Tommy, this is your bed. I will pay the main part of the rent -- you just pay the extra that they will charge for your staying here."

"Yeah, that's cool. My parents left me a little money for my birthday but I have to be careful with it."

"Your birthday?"

"Yeah, I just turned eighteen. I don't look it, though, do I? Everybody always thinks I'm a little kid."

"Hey, just be glad they don't think you're an old man like me. Oh, Tommy, I'm glad that you're here, but there are two or three rules. One, no rap or heavy metal unless you use headphones. Two, pick up your dirty socks and help me keep the place clean. Three..."

"You sound just like my dad."

"Three, you have to wear a uniform while you're in the room."

"What? A uniform? That's stupid. I hate uniforms!"

"That's the rule, Tommy. And be respectful."

"OK, where's the dumb uniform?"

"Take off your clothes first, and I'll show it to you."

Tommy pulled his T-shirt off, removed his shoes and socks, and stood before me dressed only in his boxers.

"All the way, Tommy."

"Jeez!" he said, with an exasperated look on his face, and pulled down his boxers.

"Is that enough? Or do I have to remove my skin too? OK, where's the uniform?"

I got up, and taking him by the shoulders, turned him around to face the mirror. "There, you are already wearing it."

Tommy gazed at himself in the mirror. "This is my uniform? You mean you want me to go around naked? What if somebody comes over?"

"Well, if they haven't seen one by now, it's about time, don't you think?"

"You really like looking at me naked, don't you?"

"Yep, sure do. There should be a law against good-looking boys covering up their bodies with clothes."

"OK. No problem. Look all you want."

"Can I feel all I want too?" He didn't answer me, but I guess I could because I did. We both stared at his image in the mirror as I, hugging him from behind, ran my hands all over his smooth chest and down his flat stomach. I held his peter in my hand and felt it getting stiff. I wanted it bad and knew that I could have it, but I decided to lay off for now. I wanted him to stay horny for a good while, wanted to enjoy seeing him naked.

Tommy started arranging his things while I watched. Wow! What a cute boy! I got out my laptop and downloaded the pics from my camera into it. Then I went into the bathroom. When I came out, Tommy was sitting at the laptop looking at himself giving Jose a blow-job. Tommy had a hard-on.

"I didn't know you were taking pictures of this. You aren't going to show these to anybody, are you?"

"I've already broadcast them all over the Web, Tommy."

He looked at me with a panicked look on his face, then realizing I was kidding him, laughed. "Yeah, Tommy, the famous blow-jobber." Then, seriously, "Rusty, do you think I'm gay?"

"What you do one time doesn't make you anything, Tommy. I have had sex with women. Does that make me straight?"

Tommy kept looking through the pics, absently fondling his stiff little dick. "I never wanted to do this. I can't believe I actually sucked a dude's dick! I just got carried away."

"Have you ever felt the urge before, Tommy?"

"To suck a dick? No way! I've been having feelings though, feelings I'd rather not have. Like at school, seeing the other dudes naked in the shower room. And lately, when I jack-off, I start off imagining that I'm having sex with a girl, and then this dude enters the picture and I cum right away. I can't help it. I have been worried about it a long time -- I don't want to be gay."

"Tommy, you can't fight feelings. Let them flow! Stopped-up feelings are bad for anyone. And don't put yourself in a box with a label on it. Allow yourself to be free to change, to enjoy whatever life offers."

"You're cool, Rusty. I'm glad I met you. I've never been able to tell anybody about this stuff before. Not my dad, not my friends, nobody."

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Tommy clicked off the picture program, jumped up and was about to put on his shorts when I wagged my finger "no-no." He went to the door, naked, and cracked it open enough to see that it was Raul, and let him in.

Raul didn't bat an eye at Tommy's nakedness. "Quihubole," he said. Pronounced kee-YOU-boh-leh, it means (roughly) "Wassup?"

"Quihubole," said Tommy.

Raul was dressed in his work clothes: T-shirt, shorts, tennis shoes, cap on backwards. He sat down on Tommy's bed. He had a plastic bag in his hand.

He said that he had just gotten off work and dropped by to see if he could use my shower because he wanted to take Tommy to "La Pachanga."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Oh, it's just this cool place where you can listen to music and maybe meet a girl," said Raul. "Do you want to come?"

"Yeah, come on," said Tommy.

Raul was taking off his clothes.

In English, Tommy told me, "La Pachanga" is a whorehouse. My amigos took up a collection to get me laid. I don't want to go.”

"Then don't!"

"How can I get out of it? They will think I'm gay or something. I have to go."

"Look, Tommy, virginity is nothing to be ashamed of. And you don't have to prove anything to them. If your dick gets hard and you want to try a girl, go for it. If not, tell them you are saving yourself for marriage or something."

"Hey, yeah! Thanks!"

Raul had stripped down to his cotton bikini. He stood up, saw himself in the full-length mirror and started flexing his muscles, checking himself out. Most of these muchachos are from poor families -- they don't have big mirrors in their houses. The one in my hotel room always catches their attention, and they always like to look at themselves.

Raul pulled down his bikini and gazed at his image, totally naked. His penis was hanging down, soft still, but a little swollen. The foreskin completely covered the glans and had a little extra which gave his dick a pointed appearance. It had a slight curve to the right. He took it in his hand, straightened it and released it. It returned to its original shape. Although he seemed concerned about it, I loved it just like it was. I love those little variations in dicks! It's always so fun to get a guy's pants off and see what kind of dick he has.

Raul went into the bathroom. I sat down at the computer and worked on the email that I would send from a cyber-cafe later. Tommy was looking through his extensive collection of boxer shorts.

Raul came back from his shower, drying himself. I said, "Hey, Raul, check out these pics." I caught the horrified look on Tommy's face; it said "NO!"

Raul leaned over to look. "Hijole!" he said. Tommy rushed over. It was a picture of a naked girl. Tommy gave me a mean look that said, "I'll get you later!" I laughed.

I clicked through several pics, all choice young women which I keep on my hard-drive for turning on choice young Mexican men like the one standing right beside me. And every time I clicked to a new pic, Raul's dick jumped up another notch.

"Wow!" Raul said. "That got me in the mood. Let’s go try the real thing!"

Raul dumped his clean clothes onto the bed and was about to put on a clean bikini when Tommy said, "Here, try these boxers on. They're way cooler than bikinis."

Raul looked them over. "Cool," he said. "But how about that blue one?"

He put the blue one on and admired himself in the mirror. He liked it. The crotch hung down almost to his knees. Totally rad. Awesome. Chingon.

"It's yours," Tommy said.

I was enjoying watching these two cute, naked teenagers trying on underwear, but they were on a mission and soon were dressed and ready to go. Raul had doused himself with about a gallon of Tommy's after-shave, even though neither one of them had to shave yet.

There were several muchachos waiting for us in the courtyard of the hotel, most on bicycles. Raul got on a tricycle, the kind used for deliveries in Mexico, like the rear end of a bike pushing a two-wheeled box in front. Tommy jumped into the front part with two empty produce boxes (Raul worked as a delivery boy).

"Come on, get in!" they told me.

"No thanks, I'll walk."

The boys took off, some running behind. I followed behind, walking.

The streets were busy with nighttime activity. Some people sat on their front porches, enjoying the coolness of the evening. Taco and tamale stands sprung up on every corner. For blocks, I heard the occasional whistle of the platano wagon, getting louder and louder as I approached. Finally, it came into view, one of the strangest contraptions ever invented, a sort of cross between a steam locomotive and a hot-dog cart.

"Platano Calientes!" shouted the young vendor.

"Hot Bananas!" I thought, "I wouldn't mind trying the hot banana that was in his pants!" I ordered one.

"Macho o dulse?" he asked. A cloud of steam escaped when he opened up the "locomotive."

"Macho, por favor."

He slapped the big banana onto a piece of brown paper. "Crema? Chile?"

"Crema, si. Chile, no."

He squirted a big wad of cream on the banana and handed it to me. It reminded me of a big dick with jizz all over it. He pulled the chain of the steam whistle that gave off a god-awful, multi-octave, screech.

"Platanos calientes!" he shouted, and pushed the heavy contraption down the street. "Platanos calientes!"

"La Pachanga" looked like an ordinary cantina. I went through the swinging doors and saw the boys sitting at a big table in back. They called me over. There were several sleazy women in the room, eyeing me as if I were a walking one hundred dollar bill. You knew they were whores because women are not allowed in cantinas unless they are whores.

Three women were sitting at the table with five boys, Raul, Tommy, Marcelino, Beto and another that I hadn't yet met. I sat down, and then right away, another woman sat down between Tommy and me. I was almost knocked out by her cheap perfume. She looked at me, smiling as if she had instantly fallen in love with me.

"Hola, Guapo (Hi, handsome)," she flirted.

She has on so much make-up; it looks like she must be getting lessons from a drag queen. Her eyes are ringed with bright purple and her eyelashes are about an inch long. Her lips are painted with gobs of red lipstick that goes horribly with her brown skin. Her fingernails are long, red and fake. This is the kind of woman who would get uglier the more naked she got. She puts her hand on my thigh, and then slides it over into my crotch. I take her hand and put it back in her own lap.

"Que pasa, amigo?" she says. “You don't like pretty women?"

"No," I said.

She shifted her attention to Tommy. "Wow! What a cute Gringuito! I just love blue eyes!" She put her hand on Tommy's crotch. He started and then got real red.

Raul spoke up, "Lola, go away. See if you can find Margarita."

Lola got up sullenly, and left. In a few minutes a cute girl came up to the table, the only young and cute one in the cantina.

She sat down where Lola had been. Raul introduced her to Tommy. Raul explained that Tommy wanted to try a Mexican girl. Tommy looked nervous and embarrassed.

"Cuanto cobras (how much)?" Raul asked.

She answered (in Spanish), "Only three hundred pesos, because he's cute."

All of the boys laughed.

"No, really," said Raul. "How much? This isn't a Gringo rico. How much? How about one hundred pesos (about 10 dollars)?"

She stuck to her guns, knowing she was the prettiest one in the cantina. "For that, he only gets a blow-job."

They argued. Finally, she came down to two hundred pesos, probably because he really is cute. The boys dug in their pockets and took out a bunch of small bills and coins. It only added to one hundred fifty pesos. Margarita wouldn't budge.

They tried to get money out of me. I wouldn't budge.

Raul chided his friends to come up with more money. This was their Gringo friend who had never had the pleasure of fucking a Mexican girl. It was a matter of hospitality and international good will.

It turned out that the boys had more money, but were holding out in hopes of getting something for themselves. But nobody, individually, had enough for even a blowjob.

Margarita resolved the impasse. She and another man would perform a "live show" for the benefit of everybody, for only one hundred pesos, and then she would fuck Tommy for two hundred.

The show was something I could contribute to. We got the pesos together, Margarita paid the owner, and somebody was sent out into the street to find a man willing to perform in the show.

We were herded back, through a doorway and down a hallway into a small room. The room was decorated to the max: Red carpet with gold bedspread, complete with cum and pussy-juice stains. A black velvet painting of the Last Supper over the bed. The ultimate in tackiness. I loved it!

Margarita sat on the bed and started undressing. And the more she undressed, the prettier she got. The muchachos, crowded around the bed were drooling.

The owner came back and ushered in a young man from the street -- the Hot Banana man! He looked around the room at all of the horny boys, then zeroed in on the naked girl on the bed. He pulled his T-shirt off over his head, revealing some real nice arms, shoulders, chest and stomach muscles, probably from pushing that heavy banana-mobile all around town. Then he pulled down his pants, together with his briefs.

Out sprung one of the biggest, fattest and most perfectly formed Mexican bananas that I have ever seen!

"Hijole!" said Margarita.

"Chingao!" said Raul.

"Mamacita!" said Beto.

It was already stiff enough to hold itself straight out from his body. It swung from side to side as he stepped to the bed, and got in with Margarita.

They kissed while he felt her cute, firm little breasts. She grabbed his stiff pole and slid her hand up and down the length of it.

"Well, what do you want us to do?" Margarita asked.

"Cojer (fuck)!" the muchachos said in unison.

"OK, how about 'Round the World?' First we will go to France." She got down between Senor Platano's legs, took the end of his dick into her mouth and went up and down on it. Marcelino reached out and felt her pussy between the cheeks of her upturned butt. She spun around and told him that if anybody touched her again, the show would be over and they would lose all their money.

"Next,” she said, “we will go to Camp Holy Shepherd (a local Christian revival facility)." First she rolled a rubber down onto his dick; then she laid flat on her back, legs spread. Sr. Platano got the hint, climbed on and slid it in to the root with one smooth motion.

"Ahhhh!" said Margarita.

The boys didn't say anything -- just stared with wide eyes and dropped jaws.

What a show! Sr. Platano was hunching away, his balls hanging down, slapping against Margarita's crotch with every plunge. And what a butt he had! I love to watch a guy’s butt muscles work while he's fucking.

Margarita stopped him before his balls drew up too tight, made him get off and said, "Now we are going to China." He had no idea how they do it in China.

"Lay down on your side like this," she said. She laid down facing him and put her leg over his waist. He caught on and slipped it in her.

"Ching mo ding!" he said in mock Chinese. Everybody laughed.

"Chinga, chinga, chinga!" chanted the muchachos.

The muchachos vied for the best positions to see the dick sliding in and out of the pussy, peering from every angle, shoving each other out of the way. The whole thing was taking on the aspect of a soccer game! I was about to die from laughter!

"Let's go to Greece," said the banana man. She looked at him curiously, for once forgetting her geography. "Turn around the other way," he said. He pointed the end of his dick up between her ass cheeks, held her by the waist, and pulled her towards him. Her eyes opened wide in surprise, she spun around and slapped him. The boys howled in laughter.

"No, I never liked Greece," she said. "Now we're going to the jungle of Africa." She got up on her hands and knees, spread her legs apart and lowered herself to her elbows, resting her head on the bed. Mr. Banana got behind her.

"The gateway to Africa," she said, “is the low road. Don't take the high road." She guided him in, just to make sure he didn't get lost.

The muchachos started chanting "Unga-Boonga, Unga Boonga" in rhythm with the action. But they finally quieted down and just stared at the marvelous sight of two beautiful people in full coital intercourse.

I looked at the muchachos around me: every one had a stiffness in his pants. Even my own was at full-mast. I envied the girl. I would have loved to be in her place, with the banana man inside me.

I saw his ball sac tightening, saw the contorted look on his face. He was panting, sweating and plunging. He pulled her back against him, and with his big dick thrust as deeply into her as it could go, held her there, and I knew he was climaxing.

Finally, he rolled off of her and lay, exhausted, on the bed. The end of the rubber was inflated with his cum. The muchachos gave him a big round of applause, which he acknowledged with a weak smile.

"Take him back to France!" said Beto.

"Yeah, give him mouth-to-dick respiration!" said Marcelino.

But the banana man wasn't going anywhere.

"OK, Gringuito, your turn,” said Margarita. All of the muchachos looked at Tommy. Tommy hesitated.

Raul came to his rescue. "Let’s fuck her together, Tommy! Look, I have more money!" Raul pulled out a big wad of pesos.

The other muchachos started complaining because Raul had been holding out on them. But Raul handed Margarita one hundred more pesos and she accepted it.

Raul started stripping off his clothes while Tommy stared, frozen.

"Come on, Tommy, let's do it!" said Raul, getting in the bed naked beside Margarita. Raul's dick was stiff. I handed him a rubber and he put it on.

"Yea, Tommy! Yea, Tommy. Come on, Tommy!" chanted the boys.

Tommy was still frozen. Margarita laid back, spread her legs and showed Tommy her wide-open pussy. Raul reached over and slid a finger in and out of her, grinning at Tommy.

"Fuck her for international goodwill!" said Beto.

"Fuck her for the United States of America!" said Marcelino."

There was an awkward silence while everybody stared at Tommy. Suddenly Tommy pulled his T-shirt off over his head! Everybody cheered and clapped. Tommy took off his shoes and socks, his shorts and boxers. His dick was stiff and drooling pre-cum.

Marcelino and Beto went over and pulled the banana man up and out of the bed. Tommy lay down beside Margarita. I handed him the rubber and he tried to put it on. He had it backwards. Everybody laughed. Margarita took it and rolled it down over his stiff peter.

"Take her to Camp Holy Shepherd, Tommy!" said Raul.

Tommy rolled over, got on top of her, looked down and positioned the end of his dick at the opening of her pussy, and gave her his virginity.

The boys took her around the world. Whenever one was about to cum, he would change places with the other. The muchachos stopped cheering and stared in lust and envy.

Margarita came several times. She was into it as much as them now. It was no longer a job.

And while Tommy had her in China, Raul took her to Greece. They were a big ball of arms, legs, and sweating, naked torsos. And the boys’ arms were around each other as much as they were around her.

But finally, all good things must come to an end. Their youthful energy spent, the three laid intertwined, panting and exhausted.

The muchachos gave them a final round of applause, whistles and cheers, then left the room, unsatisfied boners still in their shorts.

"How about you?" said the Banana man. “Do you want to try the Mexican pussy too?"

"No, not for me. I like men better."

"Is this what you like?" indicating his flaccid but swollen "verga." It was still covered with the cum-filled rubber.

"Yes, that is what I like. That is exactly what I like."

"For one hundred pesos, it is yours, amigo."

"Muchas gracias, but I don't pay for verga."

"I'll take you around the world."

I looked at his beautiful, big banana. It was starting to swell up.

"I'll take you to Greece. Do you want to go to Greece with me?"

I looked him in the eye. He was serious. His penis was coming back to full hardness. Yes, I did want to go with him to Greece. I nodded my head, yes.

He turned to Margarita on the bed. "Margarita, me and the Gringo need the room for a while."

"Putos (queers)!" said Margarita.

"Better than putas (whores)," said Sr. Platano. They laughed.

Margarita, Tommy, and Raul got out of the bed. Tommy looked happy. He had passed his macho test with flying colors. They pulled the cum-filled rubbers off of their soft dicks and threw them on the floor. They got dressed and as they left the room, Tommy looked at the big banana, then at me, shook his head and said "No way." I wasn't too sure of it myself, actually.

I wanted to taste the dick that was going to fuck me. I got down on my knees and pulled off the spent rubber. A big glob of cum filled the end of it. I flung the rubber onto the floor. I grabbed his penis in my hand. I could barely get my fingers around it, and it was not hard yet. The shaft was thicker in the middle of his dick than it was at the root. It was going to be a wild fuck! I slid the skin up and down the shaft and watched the foreskin as it folded over, covering the glans, and pulled back tight, revealing it completely. His penis was slick with his natural lube and semen. A lot of it clung to the glans and it bubbled and dripped when the foreskin came down over it.

I leaned toward it and took in the strong, heady fragrance of raw, mature, Mexican dick. This was no boy who was going to fuck me. My ass hole clinched in fear at that thought, but my mouth watered in anticipation of having his dick in me.

"Come on, Gringo, take me to France. Then I will take you to Greece."

I felt the shaft of his dick expanding in my hand. Could I take it? I know my maximum limit because I had a lover once who liked to play with me with dildos. The fattest dildo he ever slid up into me was of such a thickness that my fingers were barely able to encircle it. And he took his time putting it into me, over an hour, because he was loving and didn't want to hurt me.

"Come on, amigo. You want it, no? It’s yours."

My fingers were being pushed apart. I could no longer encircle it. And it was still growing.

"Come on, amigo, taste it. You will like it. Taste it, then I will fuck you."

The problem with the big-dicked guys is that they sometimes are hard to get off orally. They need more penetration than you can give them with your mouth. So, my general rule is not even to try to suck them unless you know you can take them up the butt. That is especially true when you don't know the man. And even more so when he is a straight man. If you get him all worked up and then can't satisfy him, he might just insist on penetrating you anally, and that would be all the way.

There was still time to back out. I looked up at his strong body. I shouldn't do it.

His foreskin was pulling back. Cum and lube were oozing out and hanging in a glob on the underside of his glans. The masculine odor was intoxicating. I was too close! His verga was like a magnet and I was being drawn toward it. A voice inside me shouted, "DON'T!" But I couldn't stop my tongue from reaching out to taste his Mexican juices.

The energy zapped between us! The polarity was established!

"Good, Gringo, now make your mouth feel like a pussy for me."

I had his juices in my mouth and I savored them. I licked more off of the head of his dick. I stuck my tongue up under his foreskin and cleaned it out. I sucked more slimy juice out of the end of his brown dick. I licked down the shaft, felt the veins slide over my tongue. Yes, this is what I wanted, what I need, what I love.

"You like it, don't you? You like Mexican dick, huh, Gringo? Go ahead, suck it. Then I'm going to fuck you."

My fingers lacked a half-inch from closing around his shaft. Even in my sex-altered state, I was afraid to take this thing up the butt. I must get him off by sucking. I used his own juices as lubricant, and started going up and down the shaft, sucking, and with each plunge tried to force my lips to accommodate the girth of his thick Mexican dick. I was not even close to that when he stopped me. I looked up into his eyes.

It's time, Gringo. Time to go to Greece. Time for me to fuck you. You will like my Mexican dick in your ass. Don't be afraid, I will be gentle.

To be continued.